A Journal of Impossible Things
by Danwea
Summary: A little collection of ficlets for a challenge for the Harry Potter Fanfic Challenges community. Who knows what joys you'll read inside!
1. Challenge One: 'Slip'

**Disclaimer:** I am clearly not JKR so Harry is not mine.

Also, props to you if you know where my collection title is from 3 It belongs to the rather wonderful writers of Doctor Who but, who's gonna tell? ;D

**A/N:** So, this be for my very first serious challenge in the Potter fic challenges. I'm competing for the rather wonderful house of Ravenclaw!

My first prompt was the word 'slip' and I have to use it in at least two different ways: meaning that it needs two different meanings throughout the story.

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He found her sat on the floor at the foot of the four-poster. It'd once been the bed he had slept in for his six years at Hogwarts but, although he'd left his schooling there less than a year before, it'd felt like a lifetime.

He'd let the past year slip by in a whirl of restless nights, torture, aching legs and bloody body.

He sunk down beside her and remained quiet.

They needed to talk but it could wait.

It could wait forever if that was what she wanted.

He slipped into his own thoughts of the horrific twelve hours that had just blown apart his world. He was surprised to note how little damage this corner of the castle had sustained. Ravenclaw tower had all but collapsed in great chunks across the grounds and into the lake, large boulders of the castle had been flung into the forest by the giants and yet, except for a few scorch marks and torn tapestries and the Fat Lady's portrait blasted from the wall, Gryffindor tower was still as one.

At some point or another she'd slipped her hand into his and intertwined their fingers. She rested her head on his shoulder. It took him a few moments to realise that she was crying.

He kissed her forehead, extracted his hand from hers and pulled her to him. He rocked her gently, stroking her mane of bushy hair and making what he hoped were soothing shushing noises. They stayed like this for some time. They both knew that her tears had long since dried up even though she continued to cry.

It'd been too much. Far, far too much.

They were eighteen. Adults, apparently, in both Wizarding and Muggle terms but as he sat on the floor, cradling the girl – no the _woman_ – that he loved beyond all reason, he felt exceptionally young. He was a child of war, forced to grow up and do things no one should ever have asked him to do.

He thought of Harry. Harry, who had just died to save them all. It didn't matter that some twisted miracle meant that he was still alive, still there, still their Harry, he had been dead.

And then he thought of Fred and felt his own tears burn in his eyes. He loved Harry like a brother, but why had he been allowed a second, no a _third_ chance at life when his real brother had been torn down, his life discarded? It wasn't fair, none of it was fair, and he was selfish and stupid and his heart hurt in so many ways he couldn't begin to count them.

The great tears began to slip from his face into her hair. She looked up at him, her face glowing pink and blotchy, her eyes puffing slighting, hair sticking to her damp cheeks and she was beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful.

She lent up and pressed her lips lightly to his.

"It's okay," she whispered, resting her forehead against his. "I know."


	2. Challenge Two: Put it Back Together

And onto the SECOND CHALLENGE! (I am so not going to be able to emulate my amazing scores from the first round but hey ho!

The challenge is: Write a story involving two main characters, one of which must be from your chosen House (that you are competing for).

My House: Ravenclaw

Characters: Luna Lovegood and Irma Pince

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**Put it Back Together**

A good two hours previous the Dark Lord had fallen. In the moments that followed a collective joy, quite unlike anyone had felt in years, began to seep through the hall. Tears were shed, embraces exchanged and laughter shared.

She'd spoken to Harry and helped him slip from the room. It'd been brief exchange of words, but she knew he had appreciated it. There would be time for him to act the hero, be bestowed the highest orders of wizard kind and the such but at that moment he need to grieve.

And as people noticed the Boy Who Lived had extracted himself from the Great Hall, they realised they could too. Some went to find a place to rest their weary heads whilst others went off to scout the castle, to assess the damage and to search for the fallen.

Professor Flitwick hadn't wanted her to join in, saying it wasn't a student's place and that she should leave it to the teachers but she insisted. She was hardly a student now. Her blood had shed across the stone of the school and she was as much a part of it as the Enchanted Ceiling.

She found herself treading the familiar path to the Library. The doors had been blown from its hinges and some shelves had toppled over. She lingered in the doorway, her eyes fixated upon the scraps of parchment littering the floors.

It felt like a blow to the stomach.

She made a mental note to inform one of the Professors as soon as she returned to the Great Hall and went to turn away when she heard sobbing.

Without thinking she bound into the room, pulling her wand from her belt her senses on fire.

Curled on the floor between an upturned bookshelf and the Restricted Section was Madam Pince.

Luna returned her wand to her pocket and began to inch forwards. "Madam Pince?" she asked softly, hoping not to startle the middle-aged witch.

She turned her face upwards, her eyes shining. "I suppose you think I'm stupid?" she sneered. "Every single last student took this place for granted and now, now, all my precious books…"

A fresh wave of tears engulfed her and she buried her face in her hands.

Luna crouched down beside her, careful not to touch another discarded page. "How long have you been in here?" Madam Pince only sobbed harder. "Madam Pince you didn't spend the entire battle in here did you?"

"Who else would protect the Histories of our kind? And our School! No one! Not one other soul came in here to protect the Knowledge's of Rowena Ravenclaw herself. Not another person cared."

Luna felt a pang of guilt wash over her. "That can't be true," she said. "The Library was originally the last line of defence for the Castle if any enemies came to attack."

Madam Pince stared at her. "How do you know that?" she asked, her bleary eyes bugging and her mouth hanging agape.

"I read."

And then, quite suddenly, she began to laugh. Great whooping yelps that made Luna jump. But then, Luna found that she was laughing too and it felt good.

Better than good.

Fantastic.

Dabbing tears from her eyes, Luna lent forwards and picked up a stray page. Stamped across the top were the words '_Great Wizarding Discoveries of the Third Century_'.

"It will be okay," Luna said, sifting through other pieces of parchment until she found another with the same to stamp. "We'll find a way to put it all back together."

And she held out the two pages to the older witch, who smiled.


	3. Challenge Three: Supernova

**A/N**: And the THIRD CHALLENGE! I am enjoying this so much!

SO! the challenge itself is this, chose a set of prompts and incorporate at least five of the seven into your fic.

I chose to use set one (outside / letters / something is missing / step / survey / dancing / slope) and managed to use all prompts. (Although '_something is missing_' was changed to '_It's like I'm missing something_'.

Setting, James and Lily's wedding, so the year is approximately 1979. The OC, Izzy, is from my Marauder Era fic Darkness Rising and I have her and Sirius' story fully fleshed. This is just an itty bitty bit of a snippet.

I hope you enjoy!

It is rather different to my last two!

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**Supernova**

The temperature had begun to drop but something of the scorching heat from earlier that day still lingered in the earth outside the hall. Sirius Black slouched out through the double doors and sat himself down on the stone steps that were still warm to his touch.

He ran his fingers through his hair then began to survey his surroundings through his artfully falling fringe.

The sound of heels began to clatter behind him but he didn't pay attention. "What you doing outside?" asked the owner of the heels

"Thinking," he said. "Why aren't you inside still? Thought you were dancing with James?"

"James can dance with his wife. I want to know if you're okay?" She stopped at his shoulder and looked out onto the sloping lawns.

"I'm fine."

She sighed heavily and ran her fingers through his hair. "No, you're not," she said, sitting herself down on the step beside him.

She was a pretty, dark haired girl, wearing a sleek deep purple dress and she laced her arm through his and rested her head on his arm.

"I'm guessing this is still about Regulus," she said into the fabric of his shirt sleeve.

"And yet again, your Ravenclaw attributes shine through," he said, resting his head on hers.

She giggled. "Come on. Talk to me."

He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. "I just... he was my little brother, Izzy. I should've done better. Held out a hand. Told him that he could've come to me about _anything_. I should've told him that I didn't hate him, I-"

"He knew you didn't hate him."

He scoffed.

"Oh come on Pad, you've got to stop this. You _did_ try. I saw those letters you sent to him. You _tried_. You've got to stop this."

"I know, I just... It's like I'm missing something."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, there was something about his death that we're not being told. Dumbledore attended to the body himself and that definitely wasn't my brother's. So what did they do to him? Some weird fucked up ritual for traitorous Death Eaters?"

She shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" he asked. "What is it Izzy?"

She avoided his gaze and stared up at the thin slice of waning moon hanging in the sky. "There," she coughed, trying to loosen the tight feeling that was restricting her throat. "There have been reported sightings of... of, inferi. Dumbledore's trying to keep it from you. But... well that's what he thinks has happened to your brother."

He stood up like a shot, shaking his head. "No, no that doesn't make sense. Why would he bother creating a fake dead body that looks like Regulus, if he's creating an army of fucking inferi?"

She rubbed the back of her neck. "You think I know? God Sirius, this is _exactly_ why Dumbledore didn't say anything!"

"Do you even listen to yourself?" he shouted. "What happened to your tact Izzy? This is my _little brother's dead body_ you're callously talking about here!"

She got to her feet and walked towards him, "Yeah, his body. His dead body."

"Tact, Isabelle," he said, shrugging his arm out of her tentative touch.

"Hey," she said, gently stroking his cheek. "Look, I get why you're upset about his death. But I don't understand why you're making such a fuss over the body. Even if you _do_ find his body, it's just that. Just an empty shell of your brother. It's not really him."

He fell forwards into her, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. "I just want to know what happened. I wanna know what they did to him."

"I know," she whispered into his ear, lacing her fingers through his dark tresses. "We'll find out. I promise. Even if I have to break into the Department of Mysteries myself."

She felt his chest rumble against her body. "What's it like in there? I never did get to start the Programme."

"I can't say."

"I'm sure I could make you," he muttered, placing gentle kisses along her neck running a hand slowly over her bottom.

"No, really, I can't say," she said through giggles. "You get brought in on a Fidilus Charm as soon as you go through the door."

"Sneaky," he said, resting his forehead on hers.

"Very." She sighed. "It's good to see you smiling again."

"You give me something worth smiling for."

"Stop it, Sirius. You're becoming dangerously close to sounding sincere."

He kissed her full on the mouth, deepening the kiss as he held her body tight against his own. "C'mon, let's sneak off to my suit," he said. "I mean, this is a wedding after all and as best man, I _have_ to shag _one_ of the bridesmaids and I have a sneaking suspicion Frank might have something to say if I tried to bang his wife."

"Ah," she said, kissing him again. "There's the Sirius I know and -"

"And what?"

They stood there for a minute, eyes locked together, bathed in the artificial light seeping from the open doors. And then she moved and twisted away from him sauntering up the steps with a wiggle of her bottom.

He smirked and followed.


	4. Challenge Four: All Day

**A/N:**

House: Ravenclaw (sorry, I've been bad at remembering to put this here!)

So, time for the **4****th**** Challenge**. We were given one character (mine was Harry Potter) and we had to write a **romantic** story involving another character. This second character was not allowed to be from our own house, so for me, any Ravenclaw's were off-limits.

This left me with a few choices but, seeing as I detest H/Hr, would suck at writing slash Guns'n'Handcuffs, I chose to go with the predictable Harry/Ginny.

Please bare in mind, I _hate_ Ginny as a character. She really, _really_ annoys me from OotP on and Harry and Ginny is just so contrived and cliché.

Either way, I did my best, as always.

The setting is a week after the battle, I'm not sure what my sudden obsession with post-war fics is but here, HAVE ANOTHER!

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**All Day**

The sun was hanging in the sky like a balloon, its heat bursting across the earth below. She was sat on the edge of the lake, soothing her aching feet in the cool water. She rested back on her arms, let her long red hair fan out behind her and turned her face towards the sun, revelling in its warmth.

She was aware of someone standing close-by, could hear their footfalls on the dying grass yet when she glanced over her shoulder, the only figure she could see was of the broken castle.

She frowned and turned her face back towards the sun. "Suit yourself," she said, heaving in a great breath.

The air behind her rippled as Harry revealed himself from under the confines of the Invisibility Cloak. He let the silvery fabric slide to the floor and then settled on the ground beside her. He sat cross-legged and began to tug at blades of grass.

He looked at her a few times, opening his mouth to say something, yet seemingly unable to form words. He scowled and pushed up his glasses. They slipped back down a few millimetres and he closed his eyes, breathing slowly for a hair of patience.

It didn't come. The glasses continued to edge down the bridge of his nose, carried on a small stream of his sweat.

Dulling a scream of frustration, he pulled them from his face and threw them, with all his might, at the lake. They hit the glassy surface with a plonk and quickly dropped from sight.

Ginny cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows. "Regretting that already, aren't you?" she asked coolly.

He scowled, not wanting to admit she was right. But she was simply a blur of colour to him, gleaming reds, deep blues, pale flesh.

She giggled and pulled her wand from her pocket. "Accio g-" but Harry made a lunging movement and groped at her wrist until it was in his grasp. He shook his head.

"How many pairs of glasses, realistically, do you reckon have been lost to the depths of the lake?"

Her skin burned where he touched her. They'd been avoiding one another for the past week, neither able to bring themselves to make the first move, yet here he was, his rough hands clutching at her wrist, his eyes glazed, attempting to focus on her and she couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

"Quite a few, I'd assume," she said softly, not taking her eyes from his.

He smiled. "Just, be specific."

"You could do it yourself," she said, wrenching her arm from his grip.

He moved away from her, biting his lip. "I know," he whispered. "But I think my aim might be a little off."

The statement hung between them neither unable to move through the weight that surrounded them.

"Accio Harry Potter's glasses," she said suddenly, tearing apart the unbearable silence.

Nothing happened. The surface of the lake barely rippled. "Oh," he said, "I wasn't expecting that to ha-"

He was cut short as a pair of spectacles shot out of the lake, splashing them with water and silt. The flew at Harry's chest and cracked.

Ginny crawled over to him and picked up the broken and dripping glasses. "Reparo," she said, tapping the lenses swiftly, the cracks melting back together. Another tap, "Impervius," she said and the water slid from the glasses and splashed to the ground until they were suddenly dry.

She was aware of how close they were, could hear his breath, steady and shallow close-by. She held the glasses out to him. "Here," she whispered, a flush creeping across her cheeks.

He slid them back to his face and blinked trying to adjust everything back into focus. And there she was, Ginny. Small, flame haired and face to the ground. "Thank you," he said, and suddenly, before he could chicken out of it, he forced the words out of his mouth that he'd been trying to say all week. "I didn't stop thinking about you. The whole time we were away, you were always on my mind. I'd study my map of Hogwarts, just to know that you were still there, moving around. I missed you, so much. And I know that things are all up in the air right now. And I know we've got a whole castle to help re-build and injured to visit and funerals to attend but-"

She threw herself forwards, unable to hear any more. She pressed her lips against his, running her fingers through his hair and revelling in the thought that this was Harry, _her_ Harry and he tasted even sweeter than she had remembered.

He felt awkward at first, not quite sure how to best distribute his weight and where the hell to put his hands until they found her waist and he could hold her to him fell her deepen their kiss. He let his hands slowly trail under the thin fabric of her top, let his fingers dance over her flesh and she sighed into his mouth and this felt right, so right.

An then suddenly he was laying on his back, Ginny straddling him, her hair cascading down around him. They broke apart and she rested her forehead against his. "Hey," she whispered.

"Hey."

She rolled off him and lay in the grass, curling next to him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, go ahead," he said, turning towards her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"What happened?" she asked softly. "What happened in the forest? Why did," she swallowed hard, "You Know Who say you were... _dead_?"

Harry stared at the sky for a while, his eyes fixed upon a floating cloud. "Because I died," he said softly. "It's hard to explain."

"But you're here. You're alive," she said and for what seemed like her own personal confirmation, she placed her hand upon his chest and felt his heart beat. "You couldn't have died."

"I walked into the forest, I," his voice caught in his throat as he remembered the ghostly forms of his mother, father, Sirius and Remus. "I reached the Death Eaters and then Voldemort raised his wand and hit me with the killing curse."

Ginny pushed herself up on an arm and stared at him. "But his magic didn't work, right? It was like when you were a baby. His powers just broke and you were still alive, _right_?"

"No," he said, shaking his head a little. "I really _did_ die. All I could see was green and then there was nothing. Just nothing. And then I was all alone, naked in Kings Cross with Dumbledore telling me that he was sorry for what he'd done, that he was so proud of me but that I still had things to do."

Her mouth fell open. "But Dumbledore is dead," she said slowly. "Are you sure you weren't just-" she faltered, a frown creasing her brows.

Harry sat up and ran his fingers though his hair. "I don't expect you to understand, I don't even expect you to believe me but, there are reasons why I came back. There are reasons why he thought I was dead. It's how I talked Kingsley out of throwing Narcissa Malfoy in Azkaban."

"Harry, you're going to have to explain this. Like, in depth. I want to believe you, I want to understand." She rested her hand upon his arm. "Please? It doesn't even have to be overly coherent, just, take your time."

She smiled at him and he smiled back. She lent forward and pressed her lips to his. "C'mon," she said softly, trailing her fingers along his cheek. "We've got all day."


	5. Challenge Five: Anything

**A/N: **

House: Ravenclaw

Challenge: Songfic/quote fic time. Choose between 1 and 4 lines of a song/quote and either write a one person fic or a pairing. Catch? Character/s must be from a house you have previously not used.

This left me with Slytherin's or Hufflepuff's so I chose the Puffs.

Ernie/Susan is one of my OTPs thanks to Thanfiction's DAYD.

This storyline overlaps the chronology of my fic Prepare the Masses but only quite briefly.

I started out this fic about five different times. I was using an entirely different song up until I sat down this afternoon!

This song is called _Anything_ by a band called _**Mae**_. It's from the most amazing album called The Everglow (seriously, check it out. Epic album is definitely epic.) The quote itself is not exactly how it goes in the song, but the lyrics fit the rest of the story, so I did a little copy paste!

Also, seriously, this is getting ridiculous. What is my obsession with the Battle of Hogwarts?

(Also, am I like, writing a novel in my author's notes or something?)

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**Anything**

_Every now and again sometimes,_

_I get lost on the winds of a dream._

_The pain it won't even cross my mind_

_And I can do anything._

Ernie McMillan was hit in the stomach by a jet of dark pink light and went skidding across the debris scattered floor. His insides began to burn and he immediately vomited over rubble and glistening yellow and blue gems.

His head began to spin. There was the most hideous feeling in his intestines that made them feel as though they were attempting to claw their way out of his belly button. There was complete chaos around him. All he could hear, as he lay in pain on the floor, were screams and explosions. Occasionally something heavy (_A giant? Crumbling staircase?_) would make the floor vibrate and another wave of nausea would grip him.

He began to cry. What was he thinking, throwing himself into battle? It was decidedly un-Hufflepuff after all. At that precise moment he wanted nothing more than to be curled up in a thick quilt, the sun lazily filtering in through dark curtains whilst his mother brought him a strongly brewed cup of tea.

No, this was something far too Gryffindor for his liking; acting on impulse, trying to be _brave_ to the point of idiocy.

"Ernie!" The shout was far away until suddenly hands were rooting around at his neck and trembling fingers were desperately searching for a pulse. "Ernie," she moaned softly. "Oh Ernie, please say something. Ernie please." She was speaking through sobs.

His eyes flickered and he opened them (_when had he closed them?_) his gaze suddenly locking onto the dusty green of Susan's. "Oh thank God," she cried, flinging herself on top of him and he flinched, shouting in pain as her arms made contact to his delicate stomach and the clawing sensation doubled.

"Ernie, speak to me, what happened? What's wrong?"

"Stomach," he forced out and the blackness engulfed him again.

_He was lounging on a sofa in the Hufflepuff Common Room, his head resting in Susan's lap. She was lacing her delicate fingers through his soft brown curls whilst she read up on basic healing spells._

_He could think of no better place to be. _

A voice was tearing though the surroundings. "_What's wrong with him?_" it was asking. It was hugely familiar... but what on earth was Neville doing in the Hufflepuff Common Room?

"No idea. But something's wrong with his stomach."

Stomach? And suddenly the clawing sensation tore apart his reverie and he managed to spit out, "Too. Bloody. Right." He kept his eyes tightly scrunched together, trying to block out the hideous pain.

"Don't worry, Ernie," Susan said soothingly, her fingers lacing back through his hair. "I won't let anything happen to you."

_It had been threatening to rain for the past week and as they stood on the top of the Astronomy Tower they could smell the heady perfume of a thunder storm descending around them. _

_Susan was staring up at the moon, her hands laced through Ernie's over her stomach. He had scooped her ponytail over her left shoulder and was placing gentle kisses along the back of her neck. Her breathing was slow and steady and she was falling back into him. _

"_I love you, Susie," he whispered, pressing his lips to the small part behind her ear that caused her eyes to flutter and her teeth to drag along her bottom lip. _

"_I love you too, Ernie," she said, turning in his arms and pulling him closer, her mouth seeking his. "I love you too."_

He was aware that someone was poking a wand at his stomach. "What did it to you?" the voice was asking. "Ernie, can you speak?"

His eyes flickered and he was staring up at Professor Lupin's lined face. "Don't. Know," he managed to force out.

"Susan, hide with him somewhere safe. Go now. Hurry."

Neville was dragging him to his feet, barking orders at Susan to cover them from behind and asking how close the Hufflepuff Common Room was. His legs were like lead and his eyes rolled back in his head... too much. It was all just too much.

_They had been hiding out in the Room of Requirement for three weeks when he finally built up the courage to do it. _

_He had stared at a blank stretch of wall for a solid hour, internally asking for the blossoming annex to be perfect. Every tiny detail would be thought of. _

_An enchanted ceiling would stretch across with beautiful stars and a gleaming full moon would hang, suspended upon the diamond scattered backdrop. Hundreds of candles would be burning steadily around the room. Rose petals would carpet the floor, coloured yellow and blush; her favourites. _

_And he would stand there, just Ernie, waiting for her, the small box in his pocket –_

The memory began to blur, slowly skipping and disappearing in a thick white fog that would catch in his chest.

He felt his body hit the floor and the ensuing pain brought him crashing back to consciousness just as his eyes refocused on the black cloaked figures forcing their way down the corridor. Neville was curled on the floor next to him, his hands clamped over his head, silent tears slipping down his face.

Susan was just in front of them, down on her knees with a dementor baring over her, its scabbed hands reaching to pull down its hood.

No. No this wasn't going to happen. But fog had begun to cloud his vision and and...

He saw the gleaming gem on her left hand.

"Not," he gasped, trying to blink the white from his vision. "Not. Susan. Expecto! Patronum!" A brilliant silvery boar shot from his wand, straight towards the dementor who's hands were now clamped around Susan's neck.

_She had said yes._


	6. Challenge Six: The Search

**A/N:**

House: Ravenclaw

Challenge 6: Take a character from a House you have not yet used (This one's for you, Slytherin!) and write a 'missing moment' from their lives: something we know happened in the cannon of the stories (a teacher's interview or Molly and Arthur's wedding) but were never shown. The fic MUST be written in first person.

I thought that would be easy, turns out, not so much. I like to write first person. I find it natural, usually. However, trying to write something first person from a guy's POV? SOOO HARD OTL! And especially when it comes to a character like Tom Riddle/Voldemort! ACK!

I don't like this. And I despise the ending but I have no where else to go with it.

Not my best fic and for which I am terribly sorry, fellow Ravenclaws!

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**The Search**

I slipped along the halls, quiet as the spectres I was trying to avoid. I reached my destination, withdrawing my wand from my pocket and tracing it, almost lovingly along the door's hinges whispering a silencing charm.

I turned the brass handle and entered the room, the scent of damp hitting me like a wall. "_Lumos_," I breathed. Light splashed along the walls and flashed along the tiles, creating hideous shadows that slunk their way over sink, floor and cubicle door like grotesque puppets.

A quick scan told me that I would have to probe further into the room than simply using eye sight, just like I had the others.

I hoped, beyond hope that tonight would bring me the success I desired.

Magic left traces. It was a basic idea and a widely accepted notion. But very few wizards chose to act upon it. Did they not realise what they could gain from this?

I crouched down and placed my palm on the moist tiles. I closed my eyes and began to breathe slowly, trying to feel out towards the magic with my mind. Superfluous spell traces lingered but there was something a little... _more_ nearby.

Like a fish caught on a line, I found myself shooting back to my feet and finding my way to the sinks.

There was something hidden there.

I brought my wand close by, intent on searching every inch of the porcelain and metalwork. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. But...

I absently turned the tap, expecting a burst of icy water to splash into the basin yet there was none. The tap made no noise, not even a single droplet made an attempt for freedom. In a school of magic you would expect someone with magical maintenance knowledge to be able to fix a broken tap.

And then I saw it. Almost invisible, worn away from years of failed attempts to turn on the tap, was a tiny snake.

Its image was carved into the tap. Oh the teachers knew this place existed. How could they not? But of course no one worthy had wandered the walls of this castle for years!

And now I would be the first, the very first in so very long.

I opened my mouth and began to make the rasping, hissing noise that were more comforting and familiar to me than any kind of music. My true language. My ancestor's language.

The tap began to glow and spin. The sink disappearing to show a large hole in the ground.

The Chamber of Secrets would soon be open.

My job was just beginning.


End file.
